


I Don't Help The Dead

by UAs_Fics



Series: One-shots for Creek--Week 2018 [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Creek--Week 2018, M/M, One-Shot, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-22
Packaged: 2019-08-05 15:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16370063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAs_Fics/pseuds/UAs_Fics
Summary: Tweek 's been able to see ghosts for as long as he could remember, and he’s gotten really good at ignoring them.  Even after four months living in a haunted house, he hadn’t acknowledged the ghost there at all--until one particular breakfast when he gets pushed a little too far by the ghost's pranks.





	I Don't Help The Dead

**Author's Note:**

> For [ Creek--Week 2018](https://creek--week.tumblr.com/) Day 1, Firsts.

* * *

* * *

The first time Tweek acknowledged his house ghost had been an accident. 

Tweek had been able to see ghosts for as long as he could remember and learned a long time ago it was better to ignore them. He had always thought he was pretty good at that, too. 

He glued every fragile item and knickknacks to heavy shelves the morning after the ghost first knocked a book off the table. He didn't use candles and replaced the gas stove with an electric one as soon as he could, in case the spirit of the house was a pyromaniac. 

Tweek took every measure he could in the four months he'd been renting the house to prevent himself from acknowledging his ghostly roommate.

He was just so tired when it happened. He worked a double shift the day before but couldn't get to sleep until well past midnight because the ghost kept flipping the light in his bedroom on and off. 

When the ghost reached out to slap his cup from his hand, it was a knee-jerk reaction to fix the spector with a sharp glare and snap, "Can you wait until I'm done with my breakfast before you start your poltergeist bullshit?"

The ghost stared at Tweek, his mouth hanging a gape.

"You can see me?" He asked in that ghostly tone that always reminded Tweek of a stage whisper.

"No! I can’t!" Tweek blurted out. He pushed back his chair. Abandoning his breakfast, he scrambled out of the kitchen towards the front door.

Tweek grabbed his hoodie from the floor where he'd left it the night before and began to pull it over his head. Underdressed or not he had to get out. Maybe the ghost had a bad memory. He had met ghosts like that before: they forgot everything at the end of the day, like a reset button.

Of course, Tweek knew this ghost wasn't one of those. He remembered who Tweek was and what sorts of tricks he had pulled from day to day to get his attention , but it was a nice thought.

Tweek reached for the doorknob when he realized he didn't have any shoes on. He searched around for them as the ghost yelled at him.

"The bathroom!" Tweek remembered with a jolt, bolting around the ghost to the first-floor bathroom.

His shoes lay on top of his dirty, discarded work clothes near the bathtub. He grabbed the shoes by the laces. Hopping and barely able to keep his balance, he began to force them one at a time on to his feet. Without properly tying them, he spun around, only to come face to face with the ghost in the doorway.

The ghost floated an inch off the ground, his arms held out, leaving no room for Tweek to sneak by the transparent blue-ish figure.

Tweek shuddered at the thought of walking through the ghost, but he might not have a choice, as much as he hated doing that. It wasn't just the chill of death that Tweek felt. Unlike other people, Tweek ended up feeling the full brunt of whatever emotions bound the soul to the mortal world. Be it anger, revenge, confusion, anything. Sometimes the emotions were so strong, Tweek nearly blacked out.

"P-please," Tweek forced out, "please, pretend I didn't see you. I can't deal with this again." He raised his shaking hands pleadingly towards the ghost.

The ghost's annoyed expression faded into one of concern.

"Are you alright? You look like your going to vomit. Maybe you should sit down," The ghost advised.

Tweek nodded stiffly. Now that he pointed it out, Tweek realized how nauseous he felt. He sat on the toilet with his arms wrapped around him. Goosebumps covered his skin, even with the warmth of the hoodie.

The ghost began floating closer but stopped after a few inches.

"If you could see me this whole time, why didn't you say anything? I wouldn't have thrown your stuff around if I knew you could see me." The ghost cocked his head to the side.

"I don't help the dead." Tweek squeaked out. "Please, understand, every time I help a ghost, it comes back to bite me in the ass. I've been arrested doing what a ghost told me! I'm not going through all that again!"

"Oooo-kay," The ghost muttered, "so why move into a haunted house?"

"It's cheap," Tweek replied, pressing his back against the porcelain. "I thought I could just ignore you until I saved up enough to get a better place."

"Ah, that makes sense." The ghost nodded at that.

They fell into an uneasy silence. Tweek wanted nothing more than to be left alone. He hated freaking out around people. It was embarrassing. This wasn't the first time he'd had emotional break downs around this ghost before, so the ghost already knew what to expect at least. Would the ghost find it offensive if Tweek started freaking out _about him_ though? Probably. Tweek had no choice but to hold himself together, no matter how hard that was. If there was anything worse than an annoying ghost, it was an upset one.

Tweek took a shaking breath. "I need to go to work. Can you let me pass?"

The ghost paused and looked around before floating back, the lower half of his body phasing through the sink.

Tweek forced himself to his feet and hurried by. He headed up the stairs to his bedroom to change from his night clothes to his actual work clothes. Like a dutiful dog, the ghost followed along behind him. When Tweek got to his door, he stopped.

"Can you not follow me in this time?" He requested.

Ghosts can't blush, but if they could, this one's face would be beet red. 

While Tweek had gotten used to the house ghost popping into his room while he was changing or peeking in on him showering, it didn't make it any less unsettling.

"Oh, shit, sorry, I-I'll do that," He finished flatly, turning to take a few steps back. 

When Tweek walked back out of his room a few minutes later, he was much more presentable in his work shirt and slacks. The ghost kept his word and never peeked in. Tweek tried to take comfort in that pleasant surprise.

The ghost stood across the hall, making a fidget spinner Tweek dropped on the floor spin around. When Tweek stepped out, the ghost raised his gaze from the spinner.

"So, uh," he began, "I'm really, really sorry about spying on you. I didn't think you could see me, and, honestly, you're not bad looking. Totally my type, a super hot blond." 

He was trying to garner sympathy with that last comment. Typical ghost behavior.

Tweek rolled his eyes. "Not interested." He turned and headed towards the stairs.

"Bullshit!" 

The ghost disappeared, only to reappear a step down from Tweek. Tweek scrambled back with a gasp, grasping the railing for support.

"Dude, I've seen the sites you browse. Either you like men, or you're balls deep in the closet," The ghost remarked.

Tweek opened his mouth to snap that he hadn't been in the closet since elementary school when the ghost’s words clicked.

"Can I have no privacy?" Tweek groaned, falling down to the step. 

The ghost seemed to realize what he's said at the same time as Tweek. He floated off the side of the banister.

"Ok, scouts’ honor, I've never watched you do _that._ " He crossed his heart. "The worst I've done is replay the video after you've gone to sleep. Your tastes aren't bad."

Tweek didn't know if he believed that or not, but he didn't care right then. He stood and marched down the stairs towards the door, pausing only a moment to flip off the kitchen light.

As he reached for the doorknob, the ghost asked, "are you going to come back?"

Tweek paused and looked over his shoulder with his brow furrowed.

"Yes?" He said. "Why wouldn't I?"

The ghost shrugged. "No reason. Have a good day at work. See you when you get back, Tweek."

* * *

"Wow, dude, you look terrible," Stan commented as he walked into the store.

"It's been a day." Tweek didn't raise his head from the countertop. Stan sent him a sympathetic smile. Tweek pushed himself up. He straighten his back until it popped. He rolled his shoulders as Stan headed to the back of the store to clock in. When he came back to the front, he had a box of chewing tobacco under his arm. He stooped down behind the counter and began to restock. 

Tweek looked around the gas station. It was empty, as usual. He glanced outside. The only customers had paid at the pumps with their cards. He took a breath before turning towards Stan.

"I talked to the ghost in my house." 

Stan looked at him with a surprised expression. Like Tweek, Stan too could see and hear ghosts. Though his abilities were much weaker, the shared experience gave them something to bond over and granted Tweek a slight comfort knowing he wasn't the only person in the world going through this bullshit.

"Really? I thought you didn't like to talk to ghosts." Stan propped his elbow on the box and rested his chin in his hand.

"I don't. It was an accident." Tweek shook his head. 

"Ah," Stan nodded. "So, has he asked you to help him yet?"

Tweek flinched back. "No. He hasn't, but I left pretty quickly before he could." 

"Maybe he'll be an easy ghost to help and then you can have your house all to yourself." Stan returned to restocking.

"I don't help ghosts." Tweek reaffirmed. "I've been locked in a mausoleum overnight, arrested for trespassing and got out-of-school detention for trying to help the dead get to the afterlife. I'm done. The dead are on their own."

"I guess. At least your ghost doesn't seem malicious, just annoying, from what you've told me anyway." Stan shrugged. 

The front door opened and a customer strolled then. Tweek shut his mouth and turned forward as the customer looked around the isles. 

He glanced back at Stan then sighed inwardly. Of course, Stan didn't get it. How could he? The only ghosts he could hear and see were ones that had a connection to him, like his grandfather or his uncle's life partner. He didn't have to deal with ghosts that died decades before he was even born imploring him to return lost rings or ghosts lighting fires and getting it blamed on him. Stan had it easy, and Tweek was very jealous of that.

* * *

Tweek braced himself before opening the door. Dread knotted in his stomach. He was not looking forward to this, but there was no avoiding it. He would have to just walk in and sit the ghost down to tell him he wouldn't be able to help. Maybe the ghost would take it well. Though if Tweek's past experiences were any indication, he probably wouldn't.

The ghost appeared right as Tweek shut the door.

"Welcome home." The ghost greeted

Tweek clenched his jaw a moment. "Living room."

The ghost raised an eyebrow before a grin spread across his face. "Oh, sweet, dude. You still want to watch _Red Racer_?" The ghost took off towards the living room before Tweek could reply.

About a month and a half ago, Tweek discovered this ghost could be pacified, at least momentarily, if the TV show _Red Racer_ was on. 

Tweek had been channel surfing one day when he got a call and just so happen to land on the 90s anime. The moment the action music began to play, the ghost abandoned his attempts to push over a heavy lamp and stared transfixed at the TV.

Ever since then, Tweek always turned the TV to that channel when he got home after his normal shift, just so he could have a half hour to wind down in peace.

Tweek flopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. He got home in time for the tail end of some sitcom, so he decided to take the few minutes between programs to examine the ghost over now that he could stare at him without fear.

He didn't look much older than Tweek, mid-twenties at the latest. His clothes were plain, a nice looking shirt and jeans. He had a chullo hat on, but Tweek could still see his dark hair stick out from under it. Sharp, well-sculpted, if a bit shallow, facial features, wide shoulders, a head taller than Tweek, the ghost was attractive. If he were alive, Tweek probably would have avoided talking to him for a different reason.

Tweek couldn't see any sign of what might have killed him, though. Ghosts kept the fatal blow on them, this ghost had nothing. He didn't seem scrawny or underfed. His eyes weren't sunken in. He didn't have a cough or vomit running down his chin. Nothing like he died of an illness. 

Maybe he'd choked. Tweek ventured to lean forward to get a better look at his throat. Save for his Adam's apple, nothing protruded from it.

"Um, can I help you?" The ghost asked.

Tweek jumped back and shook his head. Even if he did want to know what the ghost died from, he didn't dare ask. That was inviting trouble, and Tweek would rather that door stay locked.

"Nothing, it's just, you really like _Red Racer_ , huh?" Tweek offered instead.

"Well, yeah! It's the best!" The ghost nodded matter-of-factly. "I grew up on the 4Clover dub, but I really love this newer one. They don't localize and censor stuff like the old one."

"Censor?" Tweek echoed. He'd watched a little of the 4Clover dub back when he was a kid, but it wasn't until he was forced to watch it over the last few weeks he actually found _Red Racer_ interesting. 

"Yeah, like, a lot of the flag girls cleavage got drawn over," The ghost ticked off on his fingers as he spoke, "their skirts too, the police captain use to smoke a cigarette that got change to a sucker, parts were rewritten to leave character's deaths ambiguous, oh, and the worst one." The ghost shook his head. "They tried to remove Blue Racer and Yellow Racer's relationship."

"They're...brothers, right? Brothers turned rivals." Tweek recalled.

"Nope." The ghost gestured to the TV as the opening credits began. "They were boyfriends. 4Clover changed them to brothers for the western market. Like at the end of the show, when they reunite to fight together, they hug then kiss, but 4Clover changed it so they just keep hugging instead."

"Wow," Tweek whistled. "If they had kept that in, I probably would have paid more attention to it as a kid."

The ghost laughed. "I came out to my class during an argument about them. Some dick was saying Yellow was too masculine and cool to be gay, so I yelled at him that I'm masculine and cool, and I'm gay, so he's wrong." The ghost covered his smile with his fist. "Damn, the next few days were awkward."

"I bet it was! Are the dubbers keeping Blue and Yellow in this time?" Tweek asked, honestly interested.

"It seems so, but Blue and Yellow's relationship isn't explored until season three. This is still one." The ghost answered. Tweek went to ask another question when the ghost held up his hands. "Shhh! It's starting!"

Tweek shrugged and settled back as the intro faded into the episode. As the narrator began to recount the previous episode, Tweek realized something.

"Hey, before the episode really starts," He turned, "and don't make me regret asking this, but, what's your name?"

The ghost glanced away from the TV at Tweek. He smiled.

"I'm Craig."

* * *

Craig would willingly admit, since becoming a disembodied spirit, he was even less of a people person than he used to be, though he could chalk up most of that to not being able to be seen for the past few years. 

At least now he had Tweek, and damn, did he like Tweek. He'd never admit it, at least, not to Tweek, but he'd had a crush on him for a while, even back before he knew he could see him. Tweek was such a welcome change from the elderly couple that use to rent the house. 

Tweek didn't yell at Craig for trying desperately to get attention. He didn't call a preacher to exorcize him or go around throwing holy water. He watched _Red Racer_ with Craig and not just Fox News and the Weather Channel. He didn’t move away when he realized he couldn’t get rid of Craig and leave him all by himself. Tweek was so much better in every way.

It might have taken a lot of dedication the last few weeks, but Craig was sure Tweek had warmed up to him. Not in small part to the fact Craig hadn't asked that one question: 'Will Tweek help him with his unfinished business?'

Craig hadn't actually ever planned on asking that. After creeping on Tweek for four months, it didn't seem like he deserved to ask it. He didn't even know if he wanted help in the first place.

Craig thought about that as he did his rounds. He paused in Tweek's room. Tweek left the bedside lamp on again, so Craig took the time to turn it off, then accidentally back on, then off again. The leaves of the angel trumpet by Tweek's window had started to droop, so Craig made a mental note to tell Tweek to water them. 

That was another thing Craig liked about Tweek over the old renters. He kept life in the house with his plants. The old renters just filled every surface with dead-eyed ceramic figurines. It made Craig uncomfortable.

As Craig finished checking all the rooms upstairs, he heard the front door open. He hustled down to the first floor through the floor itself, ending up in the storage closet with Tweek's winter clothes.

He popped out and floated towards the kitchen. Tweek dumped off his stuff there first before they went to watch _Red Racer_ together. It had become somewhat of a tradition between them,

"Your angel trumpet needs water," Craig told him as he glided in.

Tweek glanced up from his groceries. He looked nervous, or more so than normal. His hand shook, and his eye twitched. Craig raised an eyebrow. Episodes like this happened to Tweek sometimes. He said it was just his generalized anxiety disorder acting up and not to worry, but Craig quietly worried regardless.

"Are you ok?"

"Fine!" Tweek squawked. A blush crept across his face. He sighed and reached into one of his bags. 

"I got you a p-present," Tweek told him with a half smile. Craig cautiously floated over to see what Tweek had. His eyes went wide.

"Is that..." He asked, his voice strained with excitement.

"It is." Tweek nodded, holding up the VHS. "The first Red Racer movie, 'A Race to the SkyWay'." 

If Craig had been any younger than he was, he would have squealed in delight. 'A Race to the SkyWay' was a rare find. 4Clover had passed off the localization to a new team and hadn't bothered to double check the script, so all the Yellow x Blue subtext was put on full display. The movie only got a single home release before 4Clover realized the mistake and pulled it.

Craig had only seen it once, back when it first came out, and it just reaffirmed his love of the Yellow Racer.

"Where did you find it?" He whispered, reaching his transparent fingers out to brush the tape.

"The thrift shop down the street from work. Stan and I went there on break. Three dollars." Tweek explained. "There's a VHS player in the basement. The old renters left it. If it works, we can watch it together."

Craig felt himself fall deeper into his crush for Tweek.

_Damn_ , did he like Tweek.

* * *

While Craig wished he could help more than giving instruction as Tweek set up the VHS player, but through some miracle, they managed to get it running. Besides the player sat a box of old movies, mostly westerns neither Tweek nor Craig had ever heard of, so they decided to test the player with one of them, instead of risking 'Race to the SkyWay.'

Tweek's fingers shook while he pressed the fast-forward button. The western on the TV began to speed up, flashes of the desert and a town intermingled with some grizzled white cowboy and a pretty Native American woman's faces. 

Craig pursed his lips, crouching down.

"Tweek?" He asked slowly. "What's wrong?"

Tweek gritted his teeth. "Nothing. Anxiety. It will pass."

"Nothing I can do to help at all?" 

Tweek shook his head. "Craig, no, I..." He trailed off with a sigh then paused the movie. The cowboy looked on in frozen horror at the woman bleeding in his arms. 

Tweek scooted over so they were face to face. "These past weeks have been surprisingly fun, but I know why you're being so nice. I'm not stupid. and this isn't the first time this has happened to me.”

Craig found himself very thankful that ghosts couldn't blush. He might have been able to keep a straight face this whole time, but he couldn't suppress a reddening of his cheeks.

"Oh, you knew?" Craig pursed his lips a moment. "Well, Tweek, listen, I know it's not appropriate to have these feelings, given our situation, but I can't help it. I really like you. I had this crush since before we started talking. I just couldn't really act on my feelings back then."

Tweek furrowed his brow. His cheeks turned pink. "What? No, I mean...you have a crush on me?"

Craig frowned. "Yes? That's what you were talking about, right? You think I'm being nice to get something from you, and I'm not. I genuinely like you and think you're a great person." He shrugged. "Besides, I'm a spirit. It's not like I can get in your pants." 

Tweek's whole body shook now as he moved his head back and forth. "No, no, you can't...that's not why you're being nice. It's not! It can't be!"

"Well, why not? Haven't you ever wanted to impress someone you liked?" Craig tried to keep the irritation out of his voice but failed. He'd had his affections rebuffed before, so that wasn't a new feeling to him. Tweek's refusal to accept he didn't have an alternative motive, however, still left him annoyed.

He didn't want anything from him more than friendship, maybe boyfriendship if Tweek was comfortable with that. 

Tweek fixed him with a pleading look. "S-stop. I know you're trying to butter me up to help you with your business. You, urk, don't need to lie about it."

Craig was taken aback. "Bullshit!" He snapped. "I'm not trying to get your help. Just accept you're cute, and I like your personality already. Seriously, get your panties out of a twist!" 

Craig winced as Tweek flinched back. 

Oh. 

Oh, shit. 

Craig fucked up. Tweek explained that his anxiety made him overthink things to the point he had a hard time dismissing the negative outcomes and scenarios he'd thought up. This had to be one of those times. He didn't really think Craig was trying to manipulate him into helping. It was his anxiety fucking with him.

Craig cautiously moved closer. He hovered his hands over Tweek's shoulders. He couldn't touch him, but the action made both of them calm down a little.

"Sorry," Craig muttered. 

"Yeah," Tweek replied softly. A breath, then he asked, "Craig? How did you die?"

A chill ran down Craig's spine. His mouth felt dry. He tried to wet it, but being a spirit, couldn't. Instead, he swallowed hard then looked away. This wasn't a story he liked to tell. 

It made him look petty and foolish.

After a moment of collecting himself, he started, "I had just graduated. It was the start of the summer between high school and college. You know, that time to get all your bad decisions out?" 

Tweek nodded for him to go on.

"Well, there was this guy. I had a crush on him for pretty much all of senior year, and at graduation, he asked me out." Craig smiled fondly at the memory. "I was so happy. Thomas was really nice and cute, and my pining hadn't been for nothing. I was really excited." His smile faded into a scowl. "Until I got into a fight with my dad. I needed the car, but he wouldn't let me take it. He needed to go to a church thing even though I had already asked to borrow it. We got into a pretty bad yelling match about it. In the end, I just stormed out.”

Craig stood then floated towards the hall. Tweek hurried after him. 

"Then what happened?” Tweek prompted, skidding to a halt behind him.

"While I was angrily walking down the street, I figured out a way to get to my date." Craig shut his eyes. "My friend Jimmy had a car, so I called him up to see if he would take me or let me use it. He said 'yes', of course, but I would have to come get the keys from him. He and some of my other friends decided to hold a seance at an abandoned house." Craig turned and held his arms out. "This house."

"Ack!" Tweek gasped. "Are your friends crazy?! Seances are dangerous! Who knows what you're inviting in!"

"I say 'seance', but it really wasn't." Craig shook his head. "It was a bunch of teenagers sitting on the floor, drinking beer, with the alphabet scribbled on some notebook paper between them." He moved over to the stairs, setting his hand as best he could on the railing. "My plan was going well. Jimmy gave me his keys, and I was going to go on my date, get some good food, see a movie, get a kiss from a hot blond. It would have been the perfect night."

A sigh escaped his lips. 

"But someone just had to call the cops." He scowled. "I guess their party was a little too noisy to be coming from an empty house and one of the neighbors had to be a buzzkill. So, when the police car pulled up, we rightfully panicked. We were upstairs and figured if we were quick about it, we could bolt out through the back entrance and hop the fence."

He took a few steps up, counting them as he went until he was on the tenth step. 

"Jimmy needs crutches to move around, and while he was plenty fast on them, the house was older then. Older with holes in the stairs and rotting wood with no electricity. So he kept stumbling and getting his crutches stuck in the holes and gaps. So, my other friend, Clyde, in his infinite wisdom, threw Jimmy over his shoulders and fucking ran down the stairs with him."

"Fucker didn't bother telling any of us on the stairs that was his idea. He just yelled 'out of the way!' as he ran down. He pushed Token against the wall," Craig clenched his eyes shut, "and he pushed me over the railing." At that moment, all Craig could feel and see was the memory. The rush of the air against his skin. The panic in his friends' eyes as they watched. The anger at his dad and himself for fighting. The crushing disappointment he wouldn't make it to his date. And finally, the sharp, sudden stop.

"You fell?" Tweek's voice came out barely a whisper. "God, Craig, I'm sorry. That can't be a good way to go."

Craig tried to dig his nails into the railing but phased through them to make a fist. "Tweek. I didn't die by falling off some stairs." He turned and met his eyes. "I didn't die at all."

Tweek shook his head. "Craig, you're a ghost. If your unfinished business is accepting your death, all we need to do is look up the obituary and--"

"I'm not dead." Craig reaffirmed. "I'm in a coma."

"What?!" Tweek gasped. "The fuck, Craig! Why didn't you tell me?" He ran his hands through his hair as he started up the stairs toward his bedroom. Craig stared after him before running up behind him.

"It's not a big deal. I don't know where my body is, but it's being taken care of. I can feel that much." Craig told him.

Tweek spun around. "I don't help the dead." He shouted with his eyes wide in panic. "But you're not dead! You're alive, Craig! I have to help you!"

Craig frowned. Normal ghosts passed on to the afterlife when their business was done. They had no bodies to return to. Craig wasn't normal, though. He didn't die with something he'd never finished and no other options. Would what helped a normal ghost move on do anything for him?

"How?" Craig heaved a sigh. "I don't have any unfinished business. There's nothing holding me here."

Tweek set his jaw. He walked until he was face to face with Craig. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through him.

Craig shuttered. He'd had people walk through him before, and it always felt gross, like someone had shoved his whole body into a bowl of peeled grapes. 

Tweek fell forward, gasping. 

"Tweek!" Craig knelt down by him. "Why the fuck did you do that?"

With his arms wrapped around himself, Tweek stayed frozen in place. For a moment, Craig thought he must have passed out on his knees, but then Tweek raised his head. His eyes held a burning determination.

He took a shaking breath then asked with a quivering smile, "Craig, do you want to go on a date with me?"

Craig blinked twice as his brain tried to process the question. "W-What?" He finally stammered.

"I'm asking you on a d-date." Tweek explained. "That's your unfinished business. You wanted to go on that date. When I walked through you, I felt your disappointment and anger about it. Let me take you on a date. Maybe I can make up for it and you can go back to your body."

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Craig pondered over the offer. It probably wouldn't work. Tweek wasn't Thomas. They were similar, but they weren't interchangeable. That all said, who was he to turn down a date with the man he'd been crushing on for nearly half a year now? 

"Alright. I'll go on a date with you." Craig agreed. "Though, I'm not sure where we could go. I can't leave the property."

Using the wall as support Tweek hoisted himself back up. "Leave that to me." He jabbed a thumb at himself. "You go and stay in my room. No peeking until I come to get you."

Craig shrugged indifferently, floating backward towards Tweek's door. He paused a moment, watching Tweek as he started muttering to himself, then smiled as he stepped fulling back inside. No matter how this 'date' turned out, Craig found his feelings for his roommate growing stronger.

* * *

Tweek had been on dates before. He'd been taken out to dinner before and he'd taken boys out to the movies before, but this date was a different beast altogether. Craig was bound to the house and the yards around it. They couldn't go to a fancy restaurant or the theater or a club. The options were limited, but Tweek had a creative mind. It might not have been his best plan, but it was a plan.

Tweek took a breath. In retrospect, he shouldn't have sent Craig to wait in his room where all his dress clothes were hung up. He thanked his lucky stars that he had done laundry the day before. It might not have been the best outfit, but the clean slacks and button up were better than nothing. 

He raised his fist to knock on his door. His chest clenched. His anxiety had quieted down from earlier in the day, so why was he suddenly so nervous? This date would work. Disappointment was the emotion that kept Craig here. The date would relieve some of that so he could go home to his body. It had to.

"Come in," an amused voice said from behind the door. Tweek pushed it open to find Craig sitting on his bed, cross-legged. He whistled when he saw Tweek. "Nice, but now I feel underdressed."

He didn't look underdressed at all, and now Tweek understood why. He wanted to look good for Thomas the night of his fall, and that had carried over to his ghostly appearance. 

He scooted off the bed. Tweek smiled and held out his hand. Craig rolled his eyes before attempting to set his hand in Tweek's. It didn't work, of course. His hand went right through, but the two pretended it did as Tweek lead Craig down the stairs. 

"So, what do you have planned for this date?" Craig asked.

"Fine dining." Tweek proclaimed. He threw his arms out when he entered the kitchen. Craig covered his mouth as he began to laugh at the scene before him. Tweek had taken an old floral print sheet and thrown it over the kitchen table. He took the lamp from the living room and stuck it in the middle of the table with one of Tweek's potted plants on either side. Set in front of each of the seats was a plate of food. 

Tweek flicked off the kitchen lights so the only light came from the lamp. He walked over to one seat and held it out. Craig snorted but took the seat without complaint. As Tweek took his, he watched Craig poke at his food.

"Pasta, the highest of dining experiences." Craig chuckled.

"It's chicken alfredo." Tweek corrected. "Under all those noodles is a piece of chicken." 

It was actually half a chicken breast. He thought he had two pieces left, but misremembered. So instead, he buried the halves under a mountain of pasta and sauce with some dollar store garlic bread on the side. It might not have been restaurant quality, but on the outside, it looked nice enough.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy it all." Craig pretended to pick up the fork and scoop some noodles into his mouth.

"I thought maybe you could just push the food off the plate when you think you'd be finished," Tweek said. He hadn't realized how silly that sounded until he heard the idea leave his mouth. Craig was a grown man, not a cat.

"You're too kind, but I'll just keep pretending." Craig stabbed his imaginary fork into the noodles and twisted it. 

They spent the next hour talking, both trying to pretend they didn't already know a lot about the other. Tweek told a few stories of his days working at his parents' store. Craig told Tweek about his pets, all of them were guinea pigs, and all of them were named Stripe. 

In the middle of Craig explaining the life cycle of a star, Tweek finished his food. Without missing a beat in his explanation, Craig attempted to float the napkin over the top of his dish. He failed the first few times to do so discreetly. By the time he had accomplished his task, Tweek could barely keep his smile at bay.

"Anyway, that's where black holes come from," Craig finished. 

"Interesting." Tweek clasped his hands together. "Are you ready for what's next?"

"Aren't you going to pay first? Or are we dine and dashing?" 

"It's on the house." Tweek winked. A goofy sort of smile cross Craig's lips. Tweek felt his heart skip a beat as he remembered part of the conversation earlier. Craig had a crush on him. Tweek had filed that memory away once he set his mind to take Craig on a date, but now it was at the forefront. 

If this date idea didn't work, would Craig feel even more disappointed if Tweek didn't reciprocate his feelings? What if Tweek did share those feelings? He had to admit that last month had been a nice change from before. Tweek like coming home to someone waiting for him. He liked Craig helping him remember to water all his plants or take his medication. He liked how Craig taught him the opening theme to Red Racer in Japanese or how he listened to Tweek babble on about his day. 

Tweek shoved those thoughts to the side. Right now, his focus was fulfilling Craig's wish for a date.

Tweek ushered Craig into the living room and to the couch. Craig took a seat in the middle as Tweek fiddled with the VHS player. After he pressed play, he walked backwards to the couch and crawled on, settling into a corner.

"Coming soon to own on video..." A voice boomed out from the TV.

"Previews." Craig rolled his eyes in mock annoyance. 

"I know, right?" Tweek chuckled. "It's, like, just get on with the movie." 

Craig chortled. He waited a moment, eyes fixed on Tweek, before asking, "Could I try to lean against you?"

Tweek jumped. "What? You'll fall through me!"

"Not if I hold myself there." Craig scooted closer. "Like this." 

Tweek stiffened as Craig rested his head against his shoulder. It felt like someone had dropped an icey blanket on him. He shuddered, but told Craig he didn't mind if he stayed there. That same goofy half smile crossed his lips before he turned back to the movie. Tweek couldn't help but notice just how cute that expression was this time around.

Faking a yawn, Tweek maneuvered his arm up and over to lay on the back of the couch, right behind Craig's shoulders. When Craig didn't complain about the corny move anymore than Tweek did about the chill, Tweek let himself relax. Craig snuggled a little closer, careful not to phase into Tweek, as the movie began.

'Race To The SkyWay' itself wasn't really much to talk about, a standard one-shot race for the McGuffin story, nothing new for the anime. Unlike the new dub, the lip syncing was off more often than not. The voices didn't seem to fit the characters as Tweek knew them either. All the subtext between Yellow and Blue had been kept in, which made Tweek a little more excited than it ought to have, though the way Craig smiled when Yellow held Blue's hand as they crossed the finish line together told him that Craig mirrored his feelings.

"Maybe next time," Red Racer was saying, "he'll learn to keep his toys in the toy box!" The screen faded to black as all the characters began to laugh.

Tweek sat up straight and stretched. "I really hope they redub that one soon. I want to watch it in HD."

Craig rested his hands in his lap. "Yeah..." He had a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

"Is something wrong? Didn't you like it?" Tweek frowned. He knew the filter of nostalgia was strong, and this was the first time Craig had seen anything from the 4Clover dub since his childhood. He prayed their date wouldn't be ruined by this.

"I loved it." Craig turned. He pressed his lips into a line before reaching his hands to Tweek's face. Careful not to go through him, he set his palms against his skin. Tweek suppressed a shudder at the cold he felt. Craig swallowed then leaned forward. 

"Is this alright?" He asked. If he had been alive, Tweek would have felt his breath against his mouth. 

"Yes." Tweek breathed, leaning forward without thinking. 

The kiss felt like someone brushing a cold feather across his lips in an almost tickling way, but Tweek couldn't say he disliked the feeling. It took everything he had not to melt into the kiss. Maybe he did like Craig more than he thought. Maybe if this date didn't work, he'd stage another, just for the fun of it. One he would have more time to prepare for. He had a speaker somewhere. It couldn't be too difficult to set up a dance in the backyard. 

All at once, the kiss changed. It felt warmer. There was a force now, weight, behind it. For a fraction of a second, Tweek felt like he was actually kissing a living, breathing person. 

Then, it was gone. 

Tweek fell forward into the couch. He pushed himself up and looked around. 

"Craig?" He called. His heart pounded in his ears. "Craig!?" Tweek stood and wandered around the house, calling for his ghostly date. Everything felt different now as he popped in and out of rooms. 

The house was empty. Craig was gone. And Tweek was alone.

* * *

Months passed, and Tweek never found out what happened to Craig. He didn't know his last name or if his family still lived in the city. Tweek tried googling his address, and a few news reports came up, but he could never force himself to click the links. 

Knowing Craig's full name, would be knowing his fate, and Tweek couldn't quite bring himself to do that. What if Craig had died the day of their date? What if he woke up and didn't even remember Tweek? 

Instead, Tweek went on about his life quietly. He tried to revert back to life like it was before he talked to Craig the first time, though, without the constant need to ignore a ghost, but found it hard to do. He had grown so used to being around someone, it was hard to get on by himself. So he started hanging around with Stan and a few other of his coworkers after work. It wasn't the same as spending time with Craig, but it was better than nothing.

One chilly autumn afternoon, Tweek rushed down the sidewalk towards home. Since his boss had switched his and Stan's shift earlier that year, Tweek hadn't been able to get home in time to watch _Red Racer._ At one point he'd bought the box set of the new dub, but watching it one episode at a time on TV reminded Tweek of his friendship with Craig, and he would rather hold on to that than binge the whole first three seasons in one go.

Today, though, Stan had called in sick so Tweek took over his shift while someone else covered his and the night shift. For the first time in weeks, Tweek could make it just in time. He felt the need to compulsively check the TV schedule to make sure the episode time was the same.

Tweek jogged up his steps, eyes on his phone, rather than where he was going. He bumped into someone, falling backward and nearly down the stairs. A warm arm grabbed his and pulled him to his feet. He stiffened as he was pulled in to a bone crushing hug,

"Ack! Hey, let me--"

"It's you."

Tweek froze. That voice. He knew that voice. It wasn't the airy, stage whisper like before, but it was definitely his voice. Tweek cranked his head up. His mouth went slack. 

Craig looked down at him, hazel eyes glowing with warmth and affection. Everything about him was warm and full of color and life, a deep contrast to the ghostly form Tweek last saw him in. He tried to form a sentence, but his brain refused to string together the words from the jumble of surprise and excitement that filled his head.

Craig took a step back, releasing Tweek with a blush. "Ah, sorry, I, oh, man, this is going to sound strange." He scratched the back of his head. "So, um, I was in a coma for the past few years, and in that time I kept having these dreams about this house, and you were in them, or someone who looked like you anyway." His blush deepened as he continued, "I know it sounds nuts, but I just had to see this place and, I don't know why, but when I saw you I wanted to hug you? I'm really sorry about that. I know this doesn't make sense."

Tweek swallowed his shock. He collected himself with a deep breath then smiled.

"It makes perfect sense to me." He said. "I'll explain later, but for now, do you want to come inside?" Tweek gestured to the door then held out his hand. " _Red Racer_ is coming on in a minute, and I really don't want to miss the start of season three."

Craig looked at his hand for a moment before taking it in his own. His hand was warm and alive in Tweek's as he lead him into the house.

* * *

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> AN: And thus the _first_ of me being loosey-goose with these themes.  
>  My writing tumblr


End file.
